Okay seriously, thank you all so much for all of the favorites and reviews and shit. Whenever my iPod dings and I get a new email notifying me that someone reviewed or favorited I do a happy dance inside my head.


I opened my eyes and the smell of hazelnut coffee, smoke, and something musky enveloped my senses. That was the smell of James. Which was, by far, my favorite smell.

I sat up and stretched my limbs, popping and cracking knuckles and joints.

I felt really good. I'm not sure why, at all, because the last thing I remember was having a mental breakdown at Carlos' house and then James was sitting on me.

I think it might be because I woke up in James' bed, with James' sweatshirt on me and I could hear the tea kettle whistling downstairs.

If I could just live here forever..

But I couldn't.

But I wanted to. I wanted to wake up in my best friend's bed every morning. I wanted to take in the smell that was James and know that no matter what, as long as I was here with him, that I was safe. I wanted to live contently with that fact.

But I couldn't.

But I really fucking wanted to. I wanted to work up the courage to kiss James again like I did that day before I drove off and crashed a car. I've been replaying that scene over and over in my head since I woke up and regained my memory. The way his arms wrapped around me when I embraced him, strong and warm and safe. How his lips fit so perfectly against mine. How he tasted like James.

But I couldn't.

We haven't discussed what I did that day at all, ever. Never brought it up. I feel like he thinks I was insane that day anyways. I mean, I stole someone's car. I crashed that someone's car. On purpose.

I don't blame him for thinking that.

To prevent myself from getting depressed for a shit reason all over again, I sighed and rolled off of his bed, stretching again and walking down the stairs.

This is why I love being around James. This is exactly why I love having James as my best friend.

Even though I put him through all of my emotional bullshit, he always acts like it never happened. He knows that that's what I want; I want to act like it never happened. Because most of the time I hardly remember the details. I just remember the beginning of the breakdown and the end where he comes and saves me. So I don't want to act like I just had an episode. I want to act like I'm..

Tired. I'm just really tired. Exhausted, even. Which I am, so that's not lying.

And James gives me what I want without even asking because he knows.

I still have his sweatshirt on and I hope he knows that he's never getting this back.

"You're awake? You didn't sleep very long." James appeared from the kitchen holding a mug. I smiled and shook my head.

"The kettle whistling woke me up," I shrugged.

"Shit I didn't even think about that," he grumbled. He walked back into the kitchen and left me standing in his living room, staring at a dust particle floating through the air.

He came back in with another mug and handed it to me.

"Here. Tea." I happy danced and sat down, him following suit.

"Did you have a good twenty minute dream? You're way too perky for someone who just woke up." He didn't say happy. He knows I hate when people say I'm happy.

I shrugged and sipped my tea. "I woke up in a good mood. 'm not sure why." Yes I am. It's because I woke up in your bed with your sweatshirt.

He switched on the television and we pursued in a Catdog marathon, which I was way too ecstatic about. I didn't even know that show still aired. We used to watch this together every morning before school and every afternoon after.

When the marathon ended it was about 7 in the evening. James' head was in my lap and he was lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling and then at me, then back at the ceiling. I was leaning my head on the back of the couch and running a hand through his hair. His unbelievably soft hair. He'd gotten it cut not too long ago and I liked it better cut clean than shaggy, I decided.

"What do you want to do for dinner?" He asked. I was about to reply with 'Sonic sounds good,' until I remembered that my mom was probably expecting me home. I groaned.

"My mom doesn't know I'm here, she thinks I'm still at Carlos'." I felt strange saying that. Normally I wouldn't mention anything close or relating to one of my episodes, because that would lead to actually talking about it. James knew though.

"I called her when you were sleeping, told her we were hanging out tonight," he replied. I lifted my head up and looked down at him.

"Then I say we go get Sonic, because I really want some tater tots right now. And you can get a watermelon slushie," I smirked. James would do anything for a watermelon slushie.

Suddenly he was up and off of the couch, slipping his shoes on and grabbing his keys from the kitchen.

"Ready when you are," he beamed. I laughed and jogged upstairs, putting on my Vans and when I got back down James was already in his car.

The ride to Sonic involved the mixed CD Carlos made James for Christmas and both of our fabulous yet not-so-fabulous voices singing along.

"Ohhhh gotta get outta here. And I'm begging you, I'm begg- ASSHOLE! FUCKING TURN SIGNAL, USE IT!" James screamed, flipping off the guy driving out of the Sonic parking-lot-thing-area. Who fucking knows what to call it; Sonic's practically a parking lot.

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. James had the worst road rage known to man.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, bitch. He has a turn signal for a reason," James snapped. I laughed regardless.

He pulled up to the speaker box and looked at me, "What are you getting?" I leaned forward to peak at the menu, even though I already knew what I wanted.

"Tots. Lots and lots of tots," I muttered and leaned back. James looked at me strangely before ordering a number one and a number two, with lots and lots of tots and a watermelon slushie.

"You're eating a number one and a number two?" I questioned. Damn.

"No, you're eating the number one," he stated matter of factly. I shrugged, whatever. Food is food.

He pulled up to the window and started digging in his pants pockets for his wallet. Then he checked the console in the middle, and underneath his ass, before he found it in the left pocket of his leather jacket. Which looked incredibly delicious on him, may I add. He'd had that jacket for as long as I remember but he'd finally grown into it, the material hugging his fit form.

We paid and drove back to his house, deciding we were going to spend the rest of the night watching a movie.

It ended up being me dragging his ass upstairs halfway through the movie when he fell asleep, him stumbling and cursing me to the deepest depths of hell because "I was so comfy, Kendall. Why do you hate me?"

And instead of sleeping when we both changed- me in one of his t-shirts with a Looney Tune on the front and a pair of boxers, him in a pair of gym shorts because he hated sleeping with clothes on but since I was there he had to at least wear pants,- we just sorta. Lied there. In complete silence.

It was aggravating, to say the least. I wanted to mention it, that kiss. Because I was feeling so unbelievably confident right now and the rest of my day had been so uplifting; spending it with my best friend. I hadn't felt like this in a long while.

But I changed my mind quickly, settling on slipping my hand into his as I flipped onto my stomach, head facing the opposite direction. I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles, making him sigh and after a few more minutes he was asleep, breathing evened out, leaving me to think.

Which was never good. You've seen what happens when I start to think.


A/N: This was kind of a filler chapter. And it was really short. But I wanted to write something more upbeat and less depressing. Review please and thank you?

Also- I'm writing a Kames based two-shot, which I already posted the first part to. It's called Reminisce.

It's also 4 am right now. It's impossible for me to write during the day.